


Watching Through The Window

by Rainwater_Apothecary



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Autistic Evan Hansen, Established Relationship, M/M, Recovery, short nightly writings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainwater_Apothecary/pseuds/Rainwater_Apothecary
Summary: Evan watches the sky through the window of Connor's arms.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Kudos: 24





	Watching Through The Window

The black hoodie smelled like Connor. Mostly that smelled like whatever he’d been doing for the past week and lightly of sweat because he sometimes fell asleep in it.

It wasn’t the best thing to smell like. But Evan could ignore it because it meant that Connor Murphy was _holding_ him.  


Evan got comfortable, scooching down so that his head was in his best friend’s- his only real friend and not ‘our families are friends’ friends and ‘we sat next to each other in one class and now I can brag at you’ friends.  


...He didn’t have a lot of true friends.  


And he was dating this one.  


It had been a shaky thing, getting Connor to let him in. There was a lot of hurt and a lot of yelling, but they had gotten there.  


Connor was quieter now, not physically because he never really said anything to anyone - selective mutism worked like that - but like...spiritually. There was a lot less chaos to his spirit and he could just _breathe_ most days.  


Connor also protected him and they were ‘outcasts together’, as he sometimes said when other kids would give Evan the stink eye.  


Connor Murphy wasn’t a popular kid. No one who wore black and hid at the back of the classroom and rarely washed his hair could ever really be ‘popular’, although ‘cool’ was within his reach, with that description. Unfortunately, he still had a temper and a _lot_ of hurt to work through before he could really leave his prickly shell. A shell that included his messenger bag, his iPod, his ratty (his own words) sketchbook, and now Evan.  


Evan looked at the clouds from within the circle of his best friend’s arms and released a small breath.  


His mind was quiet, or as quiet as Evan Hansen could get. His fingers still traced their familiar motions and he would have to sit up soon to rock in the grass... but for now he could watch a sky framed by a window of apple blossoms and ripped up black hoodie sleeves.  


And everything’s okay.


End file.
